


Night under the stars

by elf_on_the_shelf



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, They are both messes - both of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elf_on_the_shelf/pseuds/elf_on_the_shelf
Summary: Crowley wants to surprise his angel with a very well-thought-of anniversary present. It really doesn't go as planned.That's it. That's the fic.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 46
Collections: GO-DIWS Prompt Sprints





	Night under the stars

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a prompt sprint that then went too far (for me, anyway). Any yet, somehow, I am still wildly proud of it.

‘Angel?’ Crowley called out as he slammed the door far louder than he wanted to and then he tried glaring at said door for a couple of seconds, making sure that it felt properly guilty for its transgressions.

‘Yes dear?’ could be heard from the living room.

_Was it the living room?_

It sounded vaguely like it came from the solarium.

_What was the angel even doing there?_

Crowley had specifically banned him from there for fear of getting all the plants spoiled half to death. Well, not _banned_ banned. He could never deny Aziraphale anything.

It was just that after the last time the angel cooed at all of those lazy cacti and really snotty begonias that Crowley had to have some words with the lot of them and get them in check. Those words had been two hours straight of yelling on top of his lungs and from then on Aziraphale had tried avoiding the plants – or, “poor dears”, as he kept referring to them – as much as possible.

He sighed and placed both the flowers and the rare folio he had spent the last month trying to locate and then buy on the console table in the hall and went inside the living room, following the angel’s voice.

‘Aziraphale, look, I’m really sorry. I had this whole evening planned out. I had reservations and tickets to this play and everything and I completely messed it up like I usually do because I felt like causing some mischief earlier today and _boy_ , did that come back to bite me in the -’ he stopped mid sentence as he took in what was happening around him.

All of the plants in the solarium had been completely rearranged and in the middle of the floor a picnic blanket was spread out with a couple of candles lit that were more for atmospheric reasons rather than anything else.

Aziraphale was standing next to it with two champagne flutes in his hands.

He smiled widely at Crowley as he extended one of them to him, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

‘I know, darling. Anathema called and told me that your plans had gotten thwarted by your wily exploits.’

‘I swear, I will kill Book Girl someday.’

‘Of course you will. But can it not be on this particular day?’

Crowley took the champagne flute as delicately as he could while trying his hardest not to fume at how spectacularly bad everything had gone.

‘Yeah, not on this particular day, alright.’

‘Happy anniversary, dearest.’

‘Happy…yes. That.’

‘I was rather hoping that spending a night underneath the stars would be pleasant enough. Not that your elaborate plans weren’t, of course. But, you know, in case those failed.’

Crowley looked up for the first time and saw that the glass roof of the solarium was missing a couple of panes and the night sky was there for all to see, right above them.

A canopy of stars, some of which he recognised vaguely and some of which he knew intimately and he felt his heart swell as he looked at Aziraphale’s very obvious blush.

‘You planned this, didn’t you?’

The angel cleared his throat and did his best to avoid Crowley’s lingering gaze and raised eyebrow.

‘I don’t know what you can possibly mean. I just wanted to spend our one-year anniversary getting to know more about what my husband helped put up there in the sky. Fault an angel for doing that.’

‘Aziraphale?’

‘Yes?’

‘Did you muck up my plans?’

Aziraphale mumbled something into his glass.

‘What was that?’

‘Might have.’

‘You did _what_? Angel!’

‘I really wanted to spend the night with you looking at the stars. I know whatever you’d come up with would be a grand and expensive gesture. But how about this instead? You could tell me about each and every one you helped create. Let me see that side of you that you deliberately choose not to let anyone see.’

‘So. You thwarted my evil plans yet again.’

‘It’s in my nature, my dear,’ Aziraphale said as he stepped nearer and placed a hand on Crowley’s chest trying to smooth down a perfectly prim-looking lapel.

‘Oh, is it?’ Crowley downed his champagne flute and snapped it out of existence, snaking his arms around the angel’s waist. ‘Even the part about that stellar play you go on and on about?’

The eye roll could be visible even behind his sunglasses.

‘I was led to believe by someone very near and dear to my heart that Hamlet is, hmmm, how did they put it? Ah, “a sad abomination that should have never seen the light of day, angel, and would have you more depressed then your favourite dog, Spike’s funeral” I do believe were the precise words.’

‘Whoever said that sounds very wise. And sexy. And never you forget, very good in the -’

‘Very wise indeed,’ Aziraphale put his own glass of champagne down and smiled at him some more.

‘So wise that he thought about a five course meal at the Ritz.’

‘Too bad he was thwarted and, oh, _what’s this_?’ Aziraphale said on his best magician voice that Crowley hated to bits but also found incredibly adorable at the same time. _Not that he found many things adorable_. He was a demon. _They didn’t do that_.

He took off his sunglasses so that the maximum effect of his next eye-roll could be perceived.

‘Could it be that someone thought to deliver that five-course meal here?’

‘Angel -’

‘ _Well_ , I do believe they did!’

‘You know they don’t just do random deliveries in the countryside, angel.’

‘Must be magic, then,’ Aziraphale smiled his most devilish smile and pointed at the picnic blanket, taking one of Crowley’s hands and kissing his knuckles.

‘Fine. What do you want me to tell you then?’ the demon asked as he crouched down on the blanket.

‘Well, what about that one?’

‘Not one of mine.’

‘That one then?’

‘Oh, yes! And do I have a story about it!’

Aziraphale smiled to himself and wrapped an arm over Crowley’s shoulder, listening intently to all he talked about with incredible enthusiasm and child-like wonder.

He chanced feeding him a bit of this and that as he ranted on about the stars and frankly, the angel could not get enough.

He could be doing this for the next thousand years, he thought as he hummed happily to himself looking not at the night sky but at the stars reflected in his dearly beloved’s eyes as Crowley continued talking about each and every one.

Thwarting demons was not such a horrid pastime in the end. Especially when those demons looked happier than he had ever seen them look so far. And especially since his only goal for the rest of eternity was making said demons happy to begin with.

‘Oh, angel! Let me tell you about this one!’ Crowley pointed at yet another star and Aziraphale let his hand encircle the demon’s waist and his chin rest on one of his shoulders.

‘Please do, darling.’

So what if the evening didn’t go according to plan? What if plays were not seen? What if Michelin stars dinners were still sitting on the picnic blanket come sunrise. This was the best night he could think of, basking in his beloved’s most proud creations, Aziraphale mused as the sky started to light up and he cupped Crowley’s cheeks.

‘Happy anniversary.’

‘Angel, I could have made this perfect for you, you know?’

‘You already did, dearest.’


End file.
